I laugh, and gaze at him thinking, oh my… I’m in for a ride, it seems. And none they sell tickets for here.
If they did, the line would be for miles.
15
JERALD
P eter encourages Hank, “You can do better, you know you can!” while we stand around the game. He’s to throw a ball through a hole in a wooden clown head. The distance is great enough that it’s a challenge. But my brother is set on winning a rag-doll for Gertie.
Just like she did last night, Sable’s made sure we have something to eat, passing around hotdogs and soda pop as soon as they walked up. Marvin juggled more than he could handle. But that’s what he seems to enjoy.
May wipes ketchup before it drips on her chin, smiling at me with her mouthful.
“Taste good?” I ask.
“Mmhmm!”
“I’ll get it this time,” Hank grumbles.
Gertie is chewing her thumb nail on account of she wants that rag-doll but doesn’t like to see him get worked up over the possibility of failing. She’s a sweet girl, and I can see why she and May are close.
Hank throws the ball.
We hold our breath.
It hits the target in the forehead rather than the hole for a mouth. His shoulders slump, and they’re not the only ones to do so.
I don’t like the smug look on the carny’s face, as if he knew the whole time Hank wouldn’t make it. It’s a racket. Everybody knows that. But it sure does a number on a fella’s self-esteem anyhow, to repeatedly fail in front of your gal.
“It’s a dumb old game,” Gertie says, “Let’s go.”
My brother taps the counter, making the decision, “Yeah all right, let’s see if we can find another ride that all of us can go on.”
I’m disappointed, but I won’t tell him that. Not here. Not today in front of everyone.
As we shove off, Hank looks at me, his face unsettled. I keep mine passive, but I can’t help how well he knows me.
“Ah shucks,” he mutters. “Give me another three balls, will ya?”
Hank pushes through our group to take his place again, cracking his knuckles and shaking his shoulders free from tension.
Three more possibilities thump onto a wooden countertop built a week ago.
Hank picks one up, aims.
We all hold our breath again.
Although I’m not as obvious about it.
Come on, Hank, you can do this.
Sable looks as if she might pass out from the worry. Marvin keeps checking to make sure she’s all right. Peter’s got enough concentration for ten men. Even Lily, who’s seemingly unshakable, is bouncing back-and-forth on her heels. Gertie swallows hard, clasping her hands so she still has nails. May slides her arm through mine, half-eaten hotdog momentarily forgotten in the other hand.
Hank throws, and misses.
He grabs the second one, and his frustration makes him not even hit the clown at all.
Everyone sighs.
Except me and the carny.
“Hank, you see the smug look on this guy?”
My brother looks at me, and then to the guy who’s been working this racket so long he doesn’t even bother doing us the favor of wiping off his smirk.
That kind of rudeness is exactly what a Cocker needs.
Everything about Hank changes. His posture. His gaze. The way he picks up the ball, casually tossing and catching it a few inches in the air just to gauge its weight.
Gertie and May look at each other.
Lily touches Gertie’s back.
Sable is frozen.
Peter silently eggs him on.
And poor Marvin might puke.
I’m watching my brother.
And the bastard carny.
Hank aims.
Cool as can be.
He throws.
And whoosh.
Doesn’t even hit the wood.
Dead through the center of that creepy clown’s mouth like the thing was starving and this was its reward for giving up a rag-doll.
Everyone cheers. Except me.
Hank looks at me as his back is swatted by Peter. I tip my chin with approval and my kid brother’s grin spreads.
The carny hands over a rag doll and Hank thanks him, turning to say, “Gertie, I got this for you.”
The smile on her!
Our group of eight walk off to see what else we can get ourselves into. Peter says, “Why’d you thank him? That guy was a real piece of work!”
“Because that’s what you do with a guy stuck back here day in and day out no matter the weather.”
Sable snorts, “I would’ve told him to stuff it!”
“I did.” Everyone looks at Hank. “When I won. You want to know the best way to get revenge? Be happy. Then you don’t care and they don’t win. Pops taught us that, right Jerald?”
He doesn’t wait for my answer, the group happily moving onto the next amusement. I’ve slowed to offer May the soda pop we were given to share. She stops walking to take a sip, putting a little distance between us and the rest soon enough.
“You knew he was going to make it.”
“Had an idea he might.”
She hands back the glass bottle. “Does anyone ever call you the cocky brothers?”
I laugh and shake my head, “I don’t believe they have.”
“I find that hard to believe! You both own your own worth.” She follows her friends and calls back, “And I rather like it.”
Watching her polka dots sway I mutter to myself, “You don’t say,” and take my time in catching up. What a peach.
We go on a few more rides, win a few more prizes, a few more coins well spent before the girls say they have to go home. May is by my side, the bear I won for her hugged close with one arm. She nibbles her bottom lip as we walk to the cars.
“Can I call on you this evening, May? Would you like to get a malt with me?”
Her eyes are cast down. “Gee I would like that, but I don’t see how!”
Sable overheard and calls over, “Don’t forget, May is supposed to be at the hospital.”
Lily corrects her, “That’s not true. I’m supposed to be at the hospital. May is watching Tommy at
